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I saw a third-I heard his voice :
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
"This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the Sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with Mariners
That come from a far countrée.
He kneels at morn and noon and eveHe hath a cushion plump :
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old Oak-stump.
The Skiff-boat ner'd: I heard them talk, 'Why, this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair
That signal made but now?'
Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit saidAnd they answered not our cheer.
The planks look warped, and see those sails How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them
Unless perchance it were
The skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest brook along:
When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below
That eats the she-wolf's
Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look
(The pilot made reply)
I am a-feared.''Push on, push on!'
Said the Hermit cheerily.
The Boat came closer to the Ship,
The Boat came close beneath the Ship,
Under the water it rumbled on,
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat:
But, swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship,
I moved my lips: the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit.
The Holy Hermit raised his
And prayed where he did sit.
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro,
Ha ha!' quoth be full plain I see,
The devil knows how to row.'